Give Back

Fresh back from the third of three trips this month; one good reason why I stayed home last weekend rather than going to a local trail run. It was a wonderful time for my wife and me; her first opportunity to meet my (closest) family, my first opportunity to see family in about four years. The last time we all got together like this, my nephew was graduating from high school. This time he was graduating from the Naval Academy.
There was no lack of social activities during Commissioning Week; a pace which, while dizzying for graduates and families, provided many opportunities to say thank you. Dan (now Ensign Dan!), his mother, and his sponsor family managed to organize a couple of barbecues and dinners (and yes, there was no want for beer!) to thank each of the far-flung constituents for sending themselves to Naptown for a few days at a time each year, and sending their youngsters to Canoe U. for four years.
Small price to pay, I guess, for a taxpayer-paid technical education.

So, what does this mean to the individual athlete, especially the one who might care to read this?

How many times have you been at a running event, or participated in an open-water swim, or a triathlon, and complained about the lack of volunteer support at the event, such as 'not enough persons to tell you where to turn on the course,' 'under-manned or - worse - unmanned aid stations,' and the like?
Have you ever thanked the nameless volunteer who handed you those iced sponges on that 80-plus-degree day? Have you wondered why posting the results took 30 minutes longer than the race director originally intended, or why the award ceremony was delayed?
It's so simple to look at an event and figure out the shortcomings, complain, and tell your friends how fouled up the organization is...it's more challenging to offer your help to a race, especially when there's no chance you will be recognized...more likely you'll receive somewhere along the lines of one to three sharp kicks in the backside from the participants for your perceived incompetence.

Even running and triathlon clubs (and probably lots of other civic organizations, for that matter) suffer, at a larger level, from this challenge. They ask their members to give back a small bit of themselves to the community, but fall prey to a number of organizational pitfalls:
Data and Feedback - Most clubs call for volunteers through newsletter appeal, but few utilize an active approach to draw them in, track the amount of time they labor, or (worst of all) recognize their efforts on a regular basis. It doesn't have to be a gold watch; a public thank you can be worth its weight in gold. I think it was Mark Twain who said something to the extent of, 'I can survive for two weeks on a compliment.'
The RRCA has a volunteer thank you program that ranges from a certificate of recognition for 2,000 hours of service, to national awards for president, editor, club writer, and members whose work focuses on womens' running, youth running, road race of the year...and the list goes on.
Processes - I served on a club board with the goal to ensure local race courses were all USATF-certified. Once on the board, I found myself tangled in what seemed to not have much to do with running; the board was approaching the same issues every month without resolution. And any kind of suggestion to change something needed almost a complete consensus of the board members in order to withstand the withering flame of disagreement from club officers. (NOTE - PERCEPTIONS, WHILE NOT NECESSARILY REALITIES, WERE REAL ENOUGH FOR THIS WRITER) Board members were also expected to volunteer at every local club race. There were precious few volunteer jobs to be accomplished immediately before or after a race for athletes who wanted to run and were willing to volunteer.
Sometimes there needs to be a freedom for willing volunteer workers to spread their wings and make a few mistakes...there are areas where long-standing, experienced members can mentor and teach some tricks of the trade or provide lessons learned. But, in order to develop future leaders, sometimes you have to let them lead.
Incentives - It's possible to burn-out volunteer crew by calling on them to work every race in the same job, providing the same reward of many kicks in the behind...as well as the race t-shirt, bagels and beer after the race and nothing else. Club program can unintentionally operate at odds with each other: If a club has a grand prix series consisting of all its races and does not take volunteer activity into account or requires all of its races to be scored, athletes are more likely to value the incentive of a grand prix award higher than that of the race shirt, bagels, beer, etc. And, going back to the data and feedback, if the club is not honoring or recognizing volunteer workers, then there's little incentive to sweat out on the roadside.
Everyone wants a pat on the back. Some race directors and clubs are better than others in this area. But it might help to keep in mind whether you're crippling your club's education and leadership development focus by not providing some kind of incentive.

The first three are things that fall squarely on the shoulders of a club. The next three are focused more on the individual member:
Motives - This is the classic 'what's in it for me' area. There are persons who want the roar of the crowd, the desire to tell people what to do, or the love of the game. Just as every individual is unique, so are their motivation. A club volunteer coordinator might be able to tap their friends or acquaintances on a weekly basis for about a year, maybe two, but after that it's possible the potential volunteer will run the other way when they see their friend, the volunteer coordinator coming. The volunteer coordinator has their motives, too...the one who taps their closest friends without thinking about the new guy/gal who just moved into town might want to keep the party to themselves.
A smart club will find a way to check the pulse of their club; who has latent or unused talents, who knows someone who knows someone, who has the neat idea or a passion for something that hasn't been tried in years because nobody wanted to take it on, also.
Skills - There are folks who won't volunteer to serve on the board of a club or work a race because they don't feel they have the talents necessary to do anything other than grunt work...and they don't want to be put to work all of the time as labor of opportunity. These are the folks...once you hear them say 'you know, I'd love to help out with (fill in the blank), but I don't know how to do it...' Hook them up with one of the elder statesmen of the club, start a mentoring program. Many hands do make light work.
Education - In case you didn't know about any of this...now you do.

I'm not saying we as athletes need to all quit running races, but it is our responsibility to give something back to the sport. Because eventually we are going to have to stop...I hope it's not for a very long time...and I want to know there's still going to be a place for younger persons to play.

You Should Be Dancing

Yesterday was the first two-workout day since the triathlon. At first, I was impatient about waiting for Suzanne to get off work; she wanted to run while I jogged. Since hindsight is not only perfect but magnified it wasn't such a bad idea: I'd have hammered six to eight miles in the mid-80-degree heat and hated myself this morning, rather than jogged four miles at 10-minute-per mile pace...and hated myself this morning. For me, yesterday, the operating word was easy run. Man, the term 'easy' anything is hard to deal with. I've tried to amble, ramble, saunter, shuffle, jog at Suzanne's pace before, with disastrous results. It hurts to run much slower than you're capable of running. But it was fun.

As a form of gratitude, she took me to Beef O' Brady's for a bite and a beer. We ended up chattering about family stuff, both her side and mine, while keeping an eye peeled on the hockey and baseball. She saw Dancing With The Stars briefly on the toob, but then the fine people at Beef's changed the channel. I'll admit I've watched all of one episode of Dancing, while Suzanne was out of town. It was one of those lost-weekend-sit-with-the-dog-make-noises-and-channel-surf moments I get so few of...thank God. Doesn't matter who is on there...I don't want to watch another installment. One more piece of evidence that makes my pet project, The Endurance Channel, seem like a good thing.
Kind of how I felt after the MSNBC thing this weekend. Once again, I loved watching the womens marathon trials, but I had my heart set on the mens triathlon trials. All I could sense was a warm drizzle, and it was a sunny day where I was sitting. Ugh.
If you're into road racing, any track and field event longer than 800 meters, or triathlon of nearly any length, I think you can get behind my complaint. It doesn't matter whether it's college, professional or Olympic sport, the commercial value seems pretty well nonexistent. More often than not, you get commentary from Al Trautwig, telling you 'go out to your neighborhood school track and try to run 12 laps, at 64 seconds for each lap'. Dude, most of the American teevee-viewing public would rather down 12 cans of light beer at 64 seconds a can. I do like Al Trautwig, though. He gets better every year through working the Tour De France with Bob Roll, Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen. American broadcasters would do well to spend some time working with the European networks in order to learn the finer points of sports commentary, especially vis-a-vis endurance sport. Who knows, we might learn a little something about endurance sport; other nations do this too. Wow. What a concept.

Ah. It's probably good I don't have any of those skills. I do get the occasional coach me for a month before I have to run my physical fitness test so I can drop five minutes off my 1.5-mile run time requests, but no offer of kissing as compensation...thank God.

Life is Full of Something

I was all prepared yesterday morning to sit down in front of the toob, turn on MSNBC, and watch the highlights of the mens' Olympic triathlon trials. Lo and behold, what did they have on? The womens' marathon trials. What added insult to injury was the seven minutes (all right, more like three-and-a-half) of commercials right at the top of the hour, then the race from the ten kilometer mark. Yo, dude, what is up with that? Must have been the networks' way of surprising me. I did enjoy watching Deena Kastor kicking butt and taking names at mile 24; throwing her sunglasses off to the side of the road at the last mile for the benefit of the photographers and television cameramen. She's a gutsy runner and deserves a better finish in Beijing than she earned in Athens.
This is the beginning of the hardest part of the year here, at least for me. The weather conditions on the Gulf Coast usually encourage what I find to be two racing seasons. When I lived in Tampa, there were races through the summer; Wednesday evenings at Al Lopez Park, Friday evenings on Clearwater Beach or St. Petersburg, and a few monthly races up near Brandon. But here, the races come few and far between; a couple in June, one or two in July, and one in August...unless you're willing to 'commute.'
So, the training goes into maintenance mode, and the intensity level gets dropped down a notch. The biggest challenge is holding your motivation when you're dealing with 90 days of 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity. Goal-setting tends to go by the wayside, or lowered to 'get through the summer without dying of heatstroke.'
But it is a good time to start looking ahead to what - and how - you want to be running in September, October, November, and even December. So, the to-do list is empty, and the possibilities are as limited as your imagination. Don't stop getting out and running, but think a little harder about cross-training (swimming, bicycling, elliptical trainer, weight training) to supplement or augment what mileage (or intensity) you might not be getting on the road.
KUDOS:
First, to my friends Steven and Beverly Fair for completing the Ford IM 70.3 at Walt Disney World. Steve, it looks like Beverly has the company bragging rights, since she whipped on both of us.
Second, to Scott Gregory and Beverly Boege for making it through the ING Bay to Breakers 12K last weekend. Scott, the liver will be ready for transplant when you come back.

A Certain Cure For Depression

The Court of Arbitration for Sport ruled that Oscar Pistorius (above) is eligible to race against able-bodied athletes, overturning a ban imposed by the International Association of Athletics Federations (that's the international governing body for track and field, of which USATF is a member). Pistorius wants to run the 400 meters at Beijing, but hasn't met the qualifying standard yet. However, he can be picked for the South African 4x400 relay team, but the squad has not yet qualified. If he doesn't get to compete in 2008, his goal is to qualify for the 2012 or 2016 Olympics.
In January of this year the IAAF banned him from competing, saying his carbon fiber blades gave him a mechanical advantage. Pistorius was born without fibulas, one of the two bones between the knee and ankle, and was 11 months old when his legs were amputated below the knee. Personally, I don't consider that a mechanical advantage, more like a biomechanical equalizer. Dude, he didn't have OEM body parts in the first place.
So, when I hear a person complain how it is too hot, cold, wet, dry, sunny...whatever convenient inconvenience (or excuse, as my coach might say - one is as good as another) exists to keep them from training (outside of the ones I absolutely understand, such as parenthood, domestic tranquility, work or recovery), they need to take a good, long look at Oscar Pastorius. This guy has been fighting for years for the privilege to compete against able-bodied athletes at the highest levels of competition. Now he gets to. Isn't that what sport is really about?

I felt quite bummed out last night, standing around at the track waiting for athletes to come work out...and nobody came. Most of the regulars, I then realized, were recovering from the triathlon last weekend, or were heading out of town this morning. On top of that, yes, there was the first Thursday evening of music downtown. I've wondered what folks would think if I were the one who didn't show up. Then again, that's the reason I guess I am where I am. I'm not bucking for martyr or saint status, and I shouldn't be complaining...much. Ah, but an hour in the pool should take care of this depression. If not I can always run the risk of self-drowning. ;)

Energy Conservation

The most dangerous time in event preparation lies during the tapering period. Coaches like Forbes Carlile learned that a tapered decrease in effort before an athletic event permitted the athlete to regain energies lost during extended bouts of hard training. Even an enforced time away from the pool, or track in the case of Emil Zatopek in 1952, can help. Often times the energy restored is physical; sometimes it can be mental.

One of the things I missed the most during the two months I walked around in a sling after my humeral fractures was the smell of chlorine in the humid pool air, & the aroma of the blossoms in the bushes along the trails near the track where I train. My body knew it would be time & time & time before I could get in/out, but my mind was the most injured part of the equation. It had energies to spare, as you can tell by going back into those months...I was writing every day, & not all of it was quality.

The mind is a terrible thing to waste. It controls the emotions & works to parcel out the needed energies; sometimes it helps to do what the Red Hot Chili Peppers & Robert DeNiro do (at least they said it in interviews) to prepare for their labors...steer clear of people, places & situations that suck out your energy & upset you emotionally. The Kenyans are masters of spending time doing nothing. When they work, they work. When they rest, they rest. Maybe that's how more developed running nations can defeat the Kenyans & Ethiopians; send every last one of them a high-definition television & two seasons' worth of American Idol, Dancing With The Stars & Lost. Plus wi-fi internet access.

As the individual athlete grows older they have to become more attuned to how their body works; how many times they can race hard, how long it takes to recover. In my humble opinion, I'd rather race well at three or four races, compared to toeing the line every weekend & nursing a boatload of injuries. Hey, it's my money I'm paying. If I want to stay healthy & race until I'm like that old guy who ran the London Marathon at 100 years of age, I'll have to pace myself.

I owe it to my achilles' tendon & my wife. Not necessarily in that order.

Enjoying The Journey

Athletic events, like life in general, are loaded with surprises. You save, you prepare, you get counsel and advice for every imaginable contingency, and boom shaka-laka (as my wife would say), something else pops up that you certainly did not expect. A water temperature that's much colder than you (or your wetsuit) can handle. A swim distance that's 200 yards longer, or rougher, than you initially suspected for the conditions. Shifting winds. One more flat tire than the number of tubes/inflator cartridges you are carrying.
I guess that's what makes sport - I used factors germane to triathlon, but running has it's own share of possible impossibles, such as floppy shoelaces, blisters, the severe need for a porta-john while the race is being contested, and so on, and so on - so much fun. You train, you plan your races, get your gear set up and tightened up to within an inch of its life...and life (for those of you who know John Lennon's music, I won't go further) happens.
I had my moment of 'oh, my God, if I am swimming like this, how in heaven's name will I get through a swim three times the distance in three weeks?' the other weekend. However, once I got on the bike and past the first 2500 yards of the ride - about the time it takes me to realize I'm back on terra firma (and as they might say in Boston, 'the more firma the less terra') - I begin to relax and know my body and my training wouldn't necessarily let me down.
Sure, I'm a terrible swimmer. But I found I was doing much better than many of my contemporaries in the wave. I was the one pointing out dangerous situations to the rescue swimmers as I breast-stroked by. I began, at that moment on the bike, to enjoy the journey I was taking.
It's something I didn't do last autumn as I trained for the marathon. I was so focused and fixated on that elusive goal of running in Boston in 2008 or 2009 I hadn't tapped into my own well (figuratively) to check whether my source was clear and sweet or brackish. Only in late November had I realized I was drinking from a poisoned well, so to speak. By that time it was beyond too late to fix the damage.
One of my athletes has finished two Ironman-distance triathlons and is presently training for a third. He's meticulous in his planning and his training. His employment, fortunately, allows him a great degree of flexibility in scheduling workouts. He's blessed with a wife who also is smart and athletic, so he has no lack of training partners. We talk on Friday evenings over beer and dinner, sometimes about travel, sometimes about sport, and sometimes we just talk. He reminded me, as I began to lay out my training plan for this spring, to enjoy the journey. It sounds like some sort of cop-out, especially to a guy who is used to picking up hardware at local and regional races if he's in physical and mental shape for racing. But when it comes to endurance events and multisport endurance events, if you're not an elite, the odds are very good you're going out to prove something to yourself. In the grand scheme of things, a 17-hour Ironman-distance triathlon experience is a droplet of spittle in the pool when compared to the nine months or more you'll spend training. Same thing for most marathon plans. An 18-week training build-up will probably total 800-1000 miles, all for a single-day's effort of 26.2.That is a lot of time for things to go right, or to go wrong. You can make it drudgery or fun. It's your choice. Odds are good the fun factor isn't going to adversely affect the outcome, so you might as well do what it takes to make the training fun. Don't judge the success or failure of the training necessarily by the outcome on race day, either. If you do that odds are plenty high you're going to be sorely disappointed.

But I bet if you look at some of the objective stuff on the way from the beginning of training to the race day, you're going to find you're tougher, stronger, faster, fitter, maybe even smarter about your body than you were before it all.

And being smarter about your own body will make you focus and appreciate what you can do more than focus on and kvetch about what you cannot.

Strengths And Weaknesses

It's a nice day today; sunshine, blue waters, a little breeze here and there. Vicious rumor has it the weather won't be so nice over the weekend. That's all right. I'll settle for something close to nice, considering the alternative. I could be working. Worse yet, I could be unemployed and looking for a j-o-b. That's right: As the song in the end of the Monty Python movie, Life of Brian goes, '...always look at the bright side of life.'

I haven't touched my bike (save for putting on and taking off my race wheels) at all this week; no spinning class and no ride since Sunday morning. I'm not that concerned about the bike, because right now it's probably the most confident discipline I have. I'll need to have a decent swim and a strong run in order to have a better finish than last year. It would be nice to finish a little higher in the age group, but if I finish with a better time than last year and don't score any hardware, that's all right, too. My goal is to put all three disciplines together without looking stoopid.

One of the uber-gods of triathlon/coaching/mental and spiritual aspects of athletics, Mark Allen, wrote a really neat piece for this week's on-line version of Triathlete magazine, talking about how to fix your weakest link in the sport. The biggest thing I take away is to, as he said, work on your weaknesses to make them strengths. If you can take your race, regardless of the distance, and work it backwards to the beginning, you will probably find where things begin to go awry. At that particular point is where you can find the weaknesses in your own training.

I've talked about some of this before. Often we train our strengths and try to overcompensate so our weaknesses don't (we hope!) show on race day. If you (like me) tend to peter out in the latter stages of a 10-K run, it might mean looking at more 20-to-30-minute tempo runs. Other folks may go out too quickly in the first half mile of a 5-K, and that's all she wrote during the remaining 2.6 miles of the race. Some 500-to-1000-meter repeats at a consistent, sustainable pace, with brief rest intervals might do the trick. Lack that acceleration to get away from a pack in the middle of the race, or you're not able to kick at the end? How about some acceleration drills of 150-to-350 meters?

One area that can't be trained on the road or the track, or the gym, or the pool, is that gray area between our ears. Some coaches are great at tapping into the mind of the individual athlete, making them believe they are capable of great things. Others like to use tools like (as Mark Wetmore was quoted...) "ridicule and sarcasm..." to influence the athlete to think, 'well, I'll prove that blankety-blank wrong by succeeding where they think I can't.'

It takes honesty on both the athlete and the coach to look at a performance and ask the question, 'okay, where did things go wrong?' Not that every performance needs to be picked apart with a fine-toothed comb; some days nearly everything goes right and you say 'cool, I think we're on the right track.' However, more often than not we can find something to work on if we look hard enough.

Just make certain to enjoy yourself; there's plenty of folks who can't get out to do what many of us are blessed with by opportunity or physical ability. As for me, my thoughts will be with my sister this weekend, especially as I try to turn the scenery along the southern Alabama coast into a blur on my triathlon bike.